Regrets Will Lead Me Home To You
by Orchestra-Eight
Summary: When Sam asks Dean to meet him at an open mic night out in the middle of Ohio, he figured they'd be laughing at some untalented losers, not that his brother had wrote him a pretty awesome lovesong and was apologizing for their fucked up life. Now it's Dean's turn to find a way to show his little bro that he loves him a little more than he should too. Wincest! Fluff! Swearing!
1. Mine

_**My Crazy Mind Prompt: Dean is so busy trying to get "the job" done that he doesn't realize Sam has taken up playing their moms old guitar in what spare time they have. So when Sam asks him to meet him at an open mic night out in the middle of nowhere ohio, he figured they'd be laughing at some untalented losers, not that his brother had wrote him a (pretty awesome) lovesong and was apologizing for their fucked up life. Now it's Dean's turn to get a little chick flicky when he realizes how much Sam has really done for him and he needs to find a way to show his little bro that he loves him a little more than he should too.**_

**This comes in two parts. Prepare for part two.**

* * *

Dean was tired. Tired of driving, tired of thinking, of hunting, of getting his ass kicked, of being lied to. But mostly he was just fucking exhausted. He hadn't slept more than 3 hours in the past week-when he had it was only in his car might he add- and he was about to pass out at the wheel and crash his baby, no matter how much he loved her. So when he pulled into a motel in the middle of Batshit Nowhere, Ohio-Hill of dirt or something?- he totally did not feel guilty leaving his sleeping brother in the passenger seat. Not at all.

Fucker got to sleep.

God, he was tired. Where was the fucking clerk so he could get a damn room? He banged impatiently on the deskbell and cringed at the loud ringing noise that startled him out of half dead stupor into something similar to but not quite conciousness.

And it still took the stupid clerk another 5 minutes to come to the front desk. If the older Winchester had the energy he would have punched the asshole in the face. Repeatedly. But as it was he could barely muster the effort to shove his Mastercard-the one under the name Rick Savage- into the clerks face and fall helplessly into bed after waking his sasquatch of a brother.

He didn't even feel bad leaving Sam to bring in both of their bags. Not even a little.

And even then, the instant he hit the not so soft sheets, his phone rang. While he talked to Bobby about a possible case he considered smashing his face off the coffee-stained bedside table just to get some shut eye. And of course the very instant he got off the phone Sam came storming grumpily into the room, throwing Dean's duffle right onto his face.

And thats what broke him.

"The hell Sam! Seriously! Get your damn panties out of a twist okay! You can take your screwed up lady hormones somewhere else!" He stood quickly, too quickly and pushed his fingers against the bridge of his nose to calm the bout of diziness that struck him before he wobbled onto the floor.

Sam's rebuttal died on his lips. "Dean?" he questioned, concern and fear etched into his tone.

"I'm fine Sammy," Dean grumbled back, all his anger gone and replaced with the drowsy haze he couldn't seem to escape. "Jus' tired." And when he flopped down onto his bed and nothing disturbed him Dean almost thought it was too good to be true.

For once, it wasn't.

* * *

When he woke, it was too damn quiet. The birds weren't chirping, no dogs were barking and it seemed as though the whole town was at a standstill. It was also late the next afternoon.

As he stumbled out of the disheveled sheets and realized he was somehow stripped down to his boxers he noticed the distinct lack of gangly sasquatch in the other bed.

He sighed into the back of his wrist. "Aw hell."

Dean checked the bathroom, the Impala, under the bed, around the motel, down the street, and the 8 nearest places he could buy rabbit food before he found the note.

_8PM, 251 W5 AVE _

And finally a crudely drawn picture of a guy on a phone, the letters u and mand what Dean really hoped was a giant yellow school bus, because if it wasn't, he...well he really needed to invest in some art lessons for his brother.

But it obviously made zero sense. Was it a ransom note? It would be weird if his kidnapper had forced him to write it. A call for help? Maybe, but it seemed too polished, no matter how horribly Sammy drew he had obviously worked hard on it.

But what did it mean? Obviously the first part of it was the time. 8pm, simple enough. It was the rest of the note that confused him. 251 W5 AVE meant nothing to him. Neither did that stupid picture of a stick man calling some guy named um on a bu-.

"Columbus." Dean laughed, "You sneaky bastard."

It was a lot easier to decode after that. After some googling he found a "251 West 5th Avenue Columbus" and came up with some scary place called "The Shrunken Head". It seemed to be some sort of horror film tiki bar-which actually seemed oddly perfect for their situation-and they were...having an open mic night.

Dean smirked slyly to himself, remembering the only other time he had been to an open mic night with Sam. The two of them had snuck out of the motel room to go see one of Dean's friends at the time play at this local drag called "Stanky Joe's". And aptly named that bar was, the food stunk, the people stunk and the musicians who boarded the stage to, as Sammy put it, "dump their load of crap on others in the form of screeching" definitely stunk.

So maybe as he grabbed his coat he figured they'd be lazing around, getting wasted and having some of that brother time they really couldn't afford, and hadn't had since before his little brother left him for Stanford.

Or maybe he had just hoped.

* * *

I promise I will write part two. It might take a while, but I will in fact write it.

Please love me?


	2. Theirs

**I'm such a bad person. Somehow this ended up being split into three parts instead of two...so it's not over yet. Don't hate me! I'll HOPEFULLY get the third part done today but I can't promise. I hope you like this bit, and yes, while the song in this is in fact by a boyband the lyrics are too scarily accurate and full of wincest that I couldn't help myself. If you want to listen to the song without all the boybandness find a cover on youtube. Those are more what I based Sam's voice off of anyways.**

**Also, the Shrunken Head is in fact a real place. I've never been but Im kind of dying to now. If I can figure out the image manager thingy I'll post pics of the decor :) **

_**My Crazy Mind Prompt: Dean is so busy trying to get "the job" done that he doesn't realize Sam has taken up playing their moms old guitar in what spare time they have. So when Sam asks him to meet him at an open mic night out in the middle of nowhere ohio, he figured they'd be laughing at some untalented losers, not that his brother had wrote him a (pretty awesome) lovesong and was apologizing for their fucked up life. Now it's Dean's turn to get a little chick flicky when he realizes how much Sam has really done for him and he needs to find a way to show his little bro that he loves him a little more than he should too.**_

* * *

The Shrunken Head, as it turns out, was rather accurately named. The Tiki Bar seemed very much like being inside a skull with it's red paint and small interior, and Dean wasn't sure if the fact comforted him or left him uneasy, but he was pretty sure the creepy tiki faces that all seemed to be staring at him made him lean towards the second.

Luckily, the bar was actually a pizza place too, which Dean was more than happy for, since he hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch and was now downright starving. Seriously, his stomach was growling like a werewolf was trying to claw his way out of him. He winced at the bad metaphor, and knocked on the wooden table top, just in case.

But seriously, he actually kind of liked the place, it was _'their' _type of place; quirky and cheap. He paused to lick pizza grease off his fingers, and raised his hand towards the bartender for a beer. Speaking of their, where the hell was Sam?

As if he heard his name, the young and gifted, '_in more ways than one'_ Dean's mind added, redhead left the stage and was replaced by a moose of a man with shaggy hair, puppy dog eyes and a beaten up jade green guitar. Mom's. Dean frowned, wondering what the hell his brother was up to.

"Uh, hi." the youngest Winchester mumbled, awkwardly adjusting this mic to his ridiculous height and clearing his throat, while he tried to settle the uneasiness in his stomach. "I'm Sam. Uhm...I wrote this for someone special to me. Well, basically the only person I really lo-...I just...I just want to let them know."

The crowd clapped politely as Dean stared at Sam, shocked didn't even begin to cover it. Sam could play guitar? Sam could sing? Sam wrote songs? Sam wrote him a song?

Sam wrote him a song.

Shit, it had to be for him didn't it? Sam didn't have that many people that he was really close to, and they hadn't been in Columbus long enough for Sam to find a girl and fall for her.

Bloody hell.

Dean was jerked out of the thought process when Sam's gentle fingers started plucking out soft sounds and notes, his tenor breathy and downright gorgeous sounding when he started singing.

"Pack up all your tears, throw 'em in your back seat, leave without a second glance. Somehow I'm to blame, for this never-ending racetrack you call life. "

There was no doubt about it, this was for Dean. For _Dean_. The small crack in Sams voice when he said blame crunched mercilessly at Dean's heart, his brain screaming 'No, Sammy, no!'.

"So turn right, into my arms. Turn right. You won't be alone. You might, fall off this track sometimes. Hope to see you on the finish line.

"You're driving all your friends out, you just be, you cannot follow, and soon you will be on your own. Somehow I'm to blame, for this never-ending racetrack you call life."

Dean could feel the electricity between them, even though he knew Sam wasn't sure he would actually show. This was finally it. The line between their brotherhood and that elusive something more was erasing, the connection crackling in the air. Dean had figured it was just a matter of time. They had always been more than just brothers, just a little too close, just a little too connected, but they had never made that next step, the push to take them over the edge. Now was as good a time as any, he thought, closing his eyes and letting the notes of the song soothe his racing heart.

_'I don't know if I can do this'_, was left without too much thought.

"So turn right, into my arms. Turn right. You won't be alone. You might, fall off this track sometimes. Hope to see you on the finish line."

Sam took a deep breath, eyes already shining, as he drew more notes from the instrument to cover up the fact that he just missed his cue. Twice. His eyes raked over what little of the audience he could see, hoping Dean had come.

"I did all I could, I gave everything, but you had to go your way, and that road was not for me."

Dean choked back both a grin and a sob, not wanting anyone's attention but Sam's focused on him. He stared up at his only brother, his only close friend, his only...everything.

"So turn right, into my arms."

Sam closed his eyes, a smile gracing his handsome features before he sang the chorus one last time. When he opened them he knew he was looking at Dean, even if he couldn't see him past the lights.

"Turn right. You won't be alone."

Dean swallowed hard, staring right back into the eyes that felt like they were staring right into his soul. He wasn't discomfited unsurprisingly, Sam did this often, searched through the muddiness of Dean's soul for the brother he knew beneath. The one only he could seem to find.

"You might, fall off this track sometime. Hope to see you on the finish line."

The _I love you_ was left unsaid...

and Dean was gone before Sam left the stage.


	3. Ours

_**Mind Prompt: Dean is so busy trying to get "the job" done that he doesn't realize Sam has taken up playing their moms old guitar in what spare time they have. So when Sam asks him to meet him at an open mic night out in the middle of nowhere ohio, he figured they'd be laughing at some untalented losers, not that his brother had wrote him a (pretty awesome) lovesong and was apologizing for their fucked up life. Now it's Dean's turn to get a little chick flicky when he realizes how much Sam has really done for him and he needs to find a way to show his little bro that he loves him a little more than he should too.**_

* * *

Dean may have put on Paradise By The Dashboard Lights to pump himself up. After all, it wasn't every day he finally accepted that he was super gay for his little brother. So a little sing-a-long pep talk couldn't hurt right?

Plus, Meatloaf was pretty badass, and the song was sorta about love, right? Maybe?

_Jeeze_, he thought, _it's damn hard to figure out how to confess to my moose of a brother that even though I'm borderline allergic to emotions I love him, WITHOUT saying the three big words_. Hell, it was hard to say to himself.

Dean swallowed nervously, the hard gulp heavy in the otherwise silent motel room.

Of course, that was the exact moment Sam's key clinked in the lock. Dean silently cursed his brother's suddenly impeccable timing as he wrung his right hand awkwardly against the back of his neck. He met the taller man's gaze with a shy smile as the door finally pushed open.

"Heya, Sammy. I-...hey."

Sam frowned , the space between his eyebrows creasing in intrigue. Dean was being awfully skittish. Maybe... Sam's heart pounded in his chest...maybe he hadn't skipped out on the open mic night.

"Uh Dean? You okay? You seem kinda jumpy."

"Nope. 'M fine."

Or maybe he had.

"You sure?"

Dean coughed a little in his throat, his eyes doing their best to meet Sam's in assurance.

"Yep Sammy. Seriously."

Sam raised a sceptical eyebrow, but let the conversation drop. His ears finally picked up on the music in the room.

"Is that Meatloaf?"

Dean's cheeks flushed bright red as he ran over to shut the laptop lid, which continued to play music, much to his chagrin.

"Uh...no?"

Sam just grinned halfheartedly and sunk into the cheap mattress closest to the door, his eyes drooping with more emotional than physical exhaustion.

" , I...guess I'll sleep then, since you know...You're busy."

"Uh, yeah. Sure Sammy. I'll keep it down."

Grabbing a pillow and tucking it close to his chest, Sam closed his eyes.

...and within seconds nearly flew off the bed in shock.

Dean was spooning him.

The man had crawled into bed behind him and curled up, flopping an arm across Sam's waist. He was ninety percent sure a kiss had been placed at the back of his neck too, and to put it bluntly, Sam was as confused as fuck.

"Dean," Sam half whispered, terrified to startle the blonde, "What are you doing?"

His brother breathed out a heavy sigh, the noise catching slightly in his throat.

"I l-...you kno-...I liked the song Sammy."

Sam blinked hard, his mind shuffling through the words. When they finally sunk in he huffed out a relieved breath, sinking wholeheartedly back into Dean's arms. He closed his eyes and just before sleep took over, he mumbled one last sentence.

"I love you too Dean."

Dean curled in just that much closer.

* * *

**Thats it ladies, gents and angels.**

**If you review enough I might write a sex scene.**

**Keyword is might.**

**Tell me if you hated it!**


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